


Overlord Kinktober 2020

by ApocalypticRomantic



Category: Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Clothed Sex, Cunnilingus, Demiurge is doctor feelgood, Demiurge likes to watch, Demon & Human Interactions, Demon/Human Relationships, Dirty Talk, Doctor Kink, Doctor/Nurse, Doctor/Patient, Exophilia, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Femslash, French Kissing, Human/Monster Romance, Kinktober 2020, Kissing, Lemon, Masturbation, Medical Examination, Medical Kink, Multi, Oral Sex, Plague Doctor Demiurge, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Praise Kink, Precome, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Smutty, Succubus, Teasing, Threesome - F/F/M, Unethical Experimentation, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, archdevil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypticRomantic/pseuds/ApocalypticRomantic
Summary: Demiurge's gloved hands smooth over the softly rounded curves of your bare hips."Lean forward," He whispers in your ear. "The bed is right in front of you."He supports you around the hips and you trust he won't let you fall on your face.You obey, and splay your hands out to feel the soft glide of silken sheets beneath your fingers."You are not to move unless ordered." The Devil's voice is as sharp as a blade, and weighted with decree. It thrills you to know that this is the tone he uses to command entire legions of demons.Behind you, you can hear him shift, rustling with his clothes. Then comes a sharp snapping sound.You jolt, and whip your head instinctively towards the noise, but you are blind to all that he does. A growling chuckle rumbles from his chest.He likes that you are afraid."Are you nervous?" His voice is laced with sinister satisfaction. Another loud crack rings out, and you know he is snapping his belt in his hands."Yes..." You confess and lick your lips."Good. Crawl onto the bed," He orders, "or I'm going to have to punish you with this..."
Relationships: Albedo (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Reader, Albedo/Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane) & Original Female Character(s), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s), Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Reader, Demiurge/Reader/Albedo
Comments: 38
Kudos: 68





	1. Blindfold/Sensory Deprivation

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so I know it's a bit late in the month to be starting Kinktober, but better late than never! 😈
> 
> No real plot, just filth for fun. X3
> 
> No real description to the reader either, because I want everyone to be able to envision themselves in these drabbles.
> 
> Chapter 1- Blindfolds
> 
> Enjoy. 🖤 🖤 🖤

The Devil chuckles, and you feel him gently bite the back of your neck. You gasp at the sharp of his fangs scraping over your flesh, and feel the cool coils of his steel-plated tail as it winds around you, binding you to him.

"Mmmm." He sounds menacing, hungry- as if he wants to devour you. "You taste as good as you smell..."

You can only imagine the evil grin that is undoubtedly carved into his cheeks as he relishes touching and tasting you... but you cannot see it, because he has you blindfolded.

His tongue slides from the back of your neck and dips into the hollow of your collarbone, leisurely sampling you like the finest of delicacies. The sensory deprivation is simultaneously tantalizing and terrifying. You make no mistake- Demiurge is an predator by nature, exactly as Ulbert designed him to be.

But you trust that he will never do a fellow Guardian harm. 

His arms wrap around you and you can feel the tightly corded muscle of his biceps flex beneath his vermilion pinstriped suit when his hands smooth downward to ruck up your dress.

The heated firmness of his erection presses into the small of your back, and a hot clench of arousal is accompanied by a surge of wetness between your thighs.

Demiurge's gloved hands smooth over the softly rounded curves of your bare hips.

"Lean forward," He whispers in your ear. "The bed is right in front of you."

He supports you around the hips and you trust he won't let you fall on your face.

You obey, and splay your hands out to feel the soft glide of silken sheets beneath your fingers.

"You are not to move unless ordered." The Devil's voice is as sharp as a blade, and weighted with decree. It thrills you to know that this is the tone he uses to command entire legions of demons.

Behind you, you can hear him shift, rustling with his clothes. Then comes a sharp snapping sound.

You jolt, and whip your head instinctively towards the noise, but you are blind to all that he does. A growling chuckle rumbles from his chest.

He likes that you are afraid.

"Are you nervous?" His voice is laced with sinister satisfaction. Another loud crack rings out, and you know he is snapping his belt in his hands.

"Yes..." You confess and lick your lips.

 _"Good._ Crawl onto the bed," He orders, "or I'm going to have to punish you with this..." You hear the threatening snap again, and you scramble forward.

You feel him climb up behind you, methodically sliding his belt over the dips in your spine your spine as you hover there on all fours.

A thrill of sexual anticipation races through you, and you shiver.

"Am I going to have to tie you up as well, or will you behave and do as you are told?" He murmurs into the back of your neck, tracing a line from your nape to the valley between your shoulder blades with his claw. Suddenly he wraps his fingers around the back of your neck and shoves your front half down hard, so your ass in in the air.

You gasp, struggling to breathe with your face pressed into the sheets. You can feel his large body hovering over yours, and the weight of his muscle and power is nothing short of intoxicating.

He smells of dark spice, black currant and scorched sandalwood... like temptation incarnate.

"I'll be good." You promise.

"Then let's see if you have done what I asked of you..." You feel his hands slip under your dress, and when they smooth over your bare ass, his breath catches.

You heart skips, knowing he is pleased.

"What a good girl, wearing the lingerie as I requested." He purrs, noting the scrap of black lace between your thighs. The Devil shifts again, and then hooks a finger around the fabric to tug it aside, and you feel his hot breath as he dips his head down to swipe his tongue through your folds, earning a choked gasp.

You were given no time to brace for it as Demiurge spears his devilishly long tongue directly into you. You arch and cry out in surprise, attempting to writhe but are suddenly stilled by the two gloved hands that seize the back of your thighs. He latches his mouth over your cleft and sucks, and you moan as he laps between your legs from behind.

"So sweet..." He remarks. "Like the nectar of a desert rose... I could drink from you all day."

You respond with a long, drawn-in gasp of air, which you hold with a whimper of suspense.

His hands are firm but gentle as they stroke your thighs to open wider, until you are splayed for him, entirely exposed to his gaze, hot mouth and wicked tongue and he licks at you again and again and groans into your overly-sensitized flesh.

"Demiurge..." You whine, and you feel him grin against your skin.

A gloved finger circles your entrance then dips in with an obscene squelch to find you sopping wet.

He alternates between lapping the length of your slit and sucking hard. He lifts your hips higher so he can settle his wonderfully skilled mouth over your throbbing nub and you feel the breach of his fingers sliding up inside of you.

He then adds another, splitting you open, then curls them expertly to tease your G-spot, and you bite into your fist with a muffled squeal.

A lithe chuckle passes his lips. "Let's replace that gag with something a little more adequate, shall we?"

Demiurge withdraws and you whine pathetically at the hollow his digits leave, then feel his claws grasp your hips. Your world tumbles with a spin as you are suddenly flipped onto your back.

Your thighs shift and rub together, aching for relief. Teetering on the edge is torture, as is not knowing what is coming next.

The bed creaks and you feel pressure and heat around your breasts as he settles over you. His thighs, you realize when he straddles just below your shoulders.

His fingers curl under your chin.

"Open for me."

You begin to pant with mounting desire. Something warm and silky brushes over your lower lip. Your tongue lashes out, collecting a pearl of musky temptation.

His cock- thick, heavy and hard.

Your lips part in obedience and he slides inside, and you heart begins to pump harder at the feeling of being so utterly detained. His tail sweeps over your knees, waving with excitement.

The glans of his swollen head glide against the flat of your tongue, back and forth. You close your lips around his shaft and when you start sucking his hips begin a rhythm of gentle thrusts. Your hands find his thighs, and he hisses in pleasure, pushing himself in and you hear the creak of wood as he stabilizes his balance with one hand on the headboard, the other at the base of your skull.

Willing your throat to relax, you breathe deeply through your nose, then slowly out again as Demiurge groans just above you. The weight of his cock twitches in your esophagus with a spurt of pre-come, and when you whimper around it, he lets out a low, pleased hum.

He begins lifting your head to meet his thrusts, testing your gag reflex, and your jaw aches from being wedged open by his girth- and it is then that you realize neither of you have discussed safe words. A very real panic bubbles in your stomach, and your fingers dig into his hips in a silent plea.

"I promise not to suffocate you," He offers weak assurance. "But I very much intend to test your limits."

_'Shit.'_

To your relief, he seems to take pity on you and withdraws. You feel him crawl down your body, and his hand once again slips between your thighs.

"Get up. On your knees."

You obey, sitting up while he works you with his hand.

He teases you with infuriatingly gentle strokes of his fingers, nipping the side of your neck and breathing hotly into your ear the filthiest things.

_"So obscenely wet for me..."_

He presses in a third digit, stretching you.

_"You'll take every inch of that I give you."_

You groan in desperation until he finally wedges your thighs apart, brushing the fat head of his shaft against your sopping folds, and he slides the blindfold off.

You blink rapidly, your eyes taking a moment to adjust to the sight before you.

Demiurge looks _wild_ , his normally perfectly slicked hair has a few strands out of place and his flawlessly pressed clothes are in wrinkled disarray; at some point he had shed his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing that beneath his sharply dressed exterior lies immaculately carved plains of muscle.

 _'Hot damn.'_ You lick your lips.

He pulls you into his lap, and onto him with a hoarse, "Wrap your legs around me," and a smooth, brutal thrust that buries him to the hilt and tears a wail of ecstasy from your lungs. The stretch of his cock is exquisite.

He grips you by the waist, and lifts you off the bed as he crashes his mouth into yours, his lips molding to your own with a skill attainable only through lifetimes of practice. 

Demiurge's tongue then sweeps into your mouth, his kiss dominating and fiery, true to him. You moan softly and melt- he tastes of tea, cinnamon and the tang of your own arousal.

Demiurge carries you and crushes your body into the wall, and proceeds to fuck you with all of the ferocity of a storm. The position does not allow for a gentle onslaught- gravity forces him to bottom out with each thrust, hard and deep. 

He braces his steely arms around you and raggedly bites along your collarbone each time you roll your hips over his in tandem, until your thighs quiver and his muscles bulge and flex with the effort of holding you.

With each harsh grind of his hips you choke and sob. You are close, so close...

He grazes his fangs over the vein at the side of your neck, then presses his forehead against yours so he can glare into your eyes, and you feel yourself falling into the white-hot smolder of his gaze.  


His chest scrapes over yours, and you know the decadent friction against your nipples is going to send you over the edge.  


"You're going to come for me," He hisses, pumping into you faster.

Your whole body flushes with his profane command, weakened with the singular desire for him to bring you to orgasm.

"Yes!" You breathe.

"You're going to _scream_ for me," The demon snarls, maintaining expert control over the depth and angle of his strokes, diamond eyes raking your face hungrily.

His lips part, his gaze burning into yours, and he repeatedly shoves himself into you with bestial savagery.

 _Yes._ Yes, this is what you need. A violent fucking, his furious passion crashing against you until you fall apart in his arms.

"Don't stop...oh, fuck, Demiurge, _don't stop, please..."_

You stare back at the demon, and he changes his rhythm to short, pounding strokes, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars, spearing into you relentlessly until you are shaking with mind-shattering ecstasy.

Curving your body into his, you grip your legs around his narrow waist with all your remaining strength as that hot, pulsing rapture begins to liquefy inside you.

"...Please...Demiurge...please..." You beg raggedly, losing yourself in the swirling velvet-red maelstrom of desire as it wracks through your body in delicious waves.

He thrusts twice more and roars against your shoulder until you pulse and clench around him, drenching you both with a scream.

You feel the heavy throb of his shaft and the filthy-hot spurt of his come spilling inside you as he chokes and groans his release into your neck.

"Mmm..." You shudder and purr. "Demiurge..."

He chuckles weakly, panting. "Was it to your liking?"

Cheeky bastard.

As if he has to ask. You are both utterly drenched in _"your liking"._

"Very much so."

My other stories: 

[Let Me Serve You, an Ainz/Demiurge fic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995411/chapters/57721879)

[Outcasts, a crossover fic centering around my character Malphas, and Ceresoktavia's character Marlianken. Much softer but just as smutty.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615047/chapters/56671906)

[ Experiment 3069, a Demiurge/Reader fic. Dark and smutty, a rewrite of The Devil's Plaything.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904596/chapters/62954236)

💖💖💖 Thank you for your reviews and kudos! They are much appreciated. 💖💖💖


	2. Doctor/Medical Kink (Plague Doctor Demiurge)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2- Doctor/Medical Kink (Plague Doctor Demiurge)
> 
> You will see a few names that you may recognize, as I spliced the names of my friends OCs for character names. Just a shout-out to my fandom buddies. :3
> 
> Naroa- property of Ackriss  
> Marlianken- property of Ceresoktavia  
> Amon- property of Datsonyat  
> Dez- property of Kawaii Pigeon
> 
> All have such lovely stories, and I recommend you check them out! 💕
> 
> ***Also, warnings for this chapter as it regards unethical behavior for a doctor as well as a power imbalance (regarding the need for employment). Please keep this in mind before proceeding if either is a trigger for you.
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy.

_Hard limit. Soft limit._

Just below the headers at the top of the paper, there are three columns for your responses, and you read over them with uneasy scrutiny.

_Neutral. Interest. High interest._

The latter three are rather self-explanatory, but the first two have brief descriptions next to each, and you scan them with increasingly widening eyes.

Only then do you dare to analyze the words in the left column, the doctor's criteria.

_Leash Play. Collaring. Bondage. Blindfolding. Spanking. Blood Play._

Your breath stutters from your lungs.

_Whip. Rattan Cane. Flogger._

You are uncertain of the definition of many of the words. A few you are familiar with- as a single lady of 22 years, reading erotica is a favorite past time. But whether you recognize each term or not, ALL of them make your heart race.

This wasn't part of the job description. AT ALL. You are supposed to be a nurse, the doctor's assistant, but... _THIS?_

_Hair pulling. Deep-throat. Mock medical examinations. Consensual non-consent._

Your face heats with a flush and blood fills your ears thanks to your violently pounding heart, like the hollow drum of wing beats and you gulp for air, overwhelmed by the realization of what exactly the doctor is asking of you. In the time you have spent getting comfortable here and learning from his nurses, he has clearly been plotting things you have only ever read about in the darkest of the erotic tales you keep tucked beneath your mattress.

None of his nurses, nor your best friend Naroa Marlianken who recommended applying for this position mentioned anything of this nature. Based on how they described the doctor, you know him to be curt, polite, intelligent and exceptionally skilled in surgical procedures and getting to the root of the problem. You have yet to even meet him; not once has he been seen during the week of preparation you have spent to be his assistant- as head surgeon, he is a busy man.

But you need this job. _Desperately_. And you cannot afford the luxury of being picky. Pride doesn't matter when you will be starving and likely homeless by next month.

Before you can change your mind, you dip the quill pen in the pot of ink and begin to check mark what you would consider... tolerable.

 _Tolerable._ Even you have to scoff at that exaggeration of your morality; if you were being honest with yourself, many of these sound nothing short of exhilarating.

_Collaring. High interest._

_Bondage. High interest._

_Blindfolding. High interest._

_Hair pulling. Interest._

_Deep-throat. High interest._

_Anal Training. Neutral._ You aren't so sure about that one.

Now you reach the more... _aggressive_ tools of the trade.

_Biting. High interest._

_Spanking. Interest._

_Flogger. High interest._

_Whip. Interest._

_Rattan Cane. Neutral._

_Role Play. High Interest._

_Mock medical examinations. High interest._

You reach the last one, and snare your lower lip between your teeth before deciding.

 _Consensual non-consent. High interest_.

"My, your pulse is absolutely racing!" A silvery voice slithers from an eternity away, bringing you back to yourself and you jolt. "I could hear it from down the hallway. Are you quite all right?"

"Y-yes, doctor!" Your heart flips into your throat. You clutch the clipboard to your chest and snap your attention to the doorway, and watch with mounting anxiety as he stalks into the room.

"There is no need to be nervous. I promise I won't bite."

You have a hard time believing that, as the questionnaire clearly suggests otherwise. But after giving him a once-over, you're thinking a bite from him may not be so bad...

The doctor is _tall_ \- at least six-foot-two, broad of shoulder and you can see muscle of his biceps bunching and flexing beneath his slate gray trench coat as he goes to work arranging his tools on the steel tray resting upon the cart. The majority of his features are obscured by a leather plague-doctor's mask, save for his soul-piercing eyes which glint at you through his silver spectacles. Startlingly enough, they are crystalline, like diamonds. His ears are long and pointed, and silver rings and cuffs adorn his right one. His dark hair is cropped short and slickly combed back into jagged points. Each finger of his left hand is tightly wound in gauze and armed with scythe-like blades, and his right is clad in a black leather glove. Slithering out below the hem of the trench coat is a metal-plated tail, and its head is adorned with six menacing spikes.

The doctor is a demon. And from what little you can make out from his features, an undeniably attractive one.

_'Holy shit.'_

"Doctor Demiurge." He extends his safer hand- while it is not composed of curved blades like his other, the digits still end in claws, and you stare at it dumbly before your brain flips back on.

"Nurse Amon, Amon Dez." You introduce yourself and hope you didn't come off as uneloquent, and you shake hands with him. He courteously minds his talons.

Demiurge is feverish to the touch, but this comes as no surprise as you have read that a demon's body temperature runs nearly ten degrees higher than that of other heteromorphs; they're hot-blooded, so to speak.

"It is a pleasure." He says warmly, and when you release his grip, his hand remains open, as though he is waiting for something.

"Have you completed your paperwork?" He cuts right to the chase.

He looms over you like a massive, bipedal raven, eyes gleaming with an eerily unsettling intelligence.

"Um... yes, doctor." You nervously lick your lips and swallow the growing lump in your throat before reluctantly surrendering the clipboard to him.

The demon's eyes scan the questionnaire, and you watch his eyes widen, then narrow.

_'Oh no... did I mark something I shouldn't have?'_

Doctor Demiurge sighs in apparent exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose, and you feel a cold stone of dread settle into your gut.

But then he mutters something to the effect of 'I'm going to kill him'.

"My sincerest apologies. It would appear my brother, Malphas, thought this would be _amusing_. This is the third time he has traded our paperwork with... this." He taps a blade on the paper for emphasis. "A childish prank in poor taste he likes to pull with my new associates."

A sigh of relief passes your lips. You were positive you had fucked up and he would retract the employment opportunity.

But despite the surgeon labeling it as a mere prank, his eyes continue to rake over the columns with undisguised interest. His tail flicks, and you can practically see the wheels in his head turning.

He then draws a brow.

"I admit, I find it surprising that you checked anything at all. The sexual nature of this questionnaire more often than not results in most simply showing themselves out or furiously demanding an explanation." He remarks with a lithe chuckle.

If it is possible to die of embarrassment, you'll be keeling over in 3...2...1.

"I- I _really_ need this job." You say adamantly with heated cheeks and you worry at your lower lip.

"So it would seem." He purrs, and he rests the clipboard next to the steel tray. "Tell me," He turns on his heel and narrows the distance between you to mere inches, and he smells like cloves, leather and scorched sandalwood. It is a scent that is as equally enticingly as it is strangely comforting- like a fireplace. "...do you have any actual experience with what you have check-marked?"

The demon's brazen question steals the breath from your lungs.

The air grows buttery thick with tension, and you gulp audibly as embarrassment serves up a severe case of cottonmouth.

"...No." You finally admit with a shameful roll of your lips.

While you weren't a virgin, your experience is limited to the fumbling hands and easily fatigue mouths of boys your age- and you don't use the term boys loosely, because they could hardly be considered men. Whether you were satisfied while they got off mattered not, and each encounter was entirely centered around their pleasure, resulting in your bitter disappointment. Not once had you been brought to release. "No, doctor."

He hums in contemplation. "Would you be willing to learn?"

The question shoots a hot spike of arousal straight to your core. Again, you blush, and cannot help but wonder if you are being baited, or if this is his idea of yet another prank. But he sure as Hell doesn't look like the joking type.

 _'Okay. I'll bite.'_ What do you have to lose at this point?

"...Yes."

You watch his eyes crinkle slightly at the edges, and know he is smiling behind his mask.

"Excellent." His voice oozes with black satisfaction, and your stomach flutters. "Then I do hope you were indeed honest with your responses."

 _'Oh, my Gods...'_ Your heart begins to race once more. _'This is actually happening...'_

"Oh, dear. It would appear you have a bit of ink on your scrubs." He points out.

You look down. Sure enough, there are black smears down your front from when you had pressed the clipboard to your chest.

 _'Damn it! Just great!'_ You had spent the last of your spare coin on the most pristine set of white scrubs you could afford in hopes that looking the part would tip the scales in your favor of gaining the doctor's approval.

"Please, remove your clothing- I'll have someone get those stains out. Then I shall proceed with the examination." Doctor Demiurge says, adopting a clinical tone.

_'WHAT? That's not what I'm here fo-...OH.'_

That's right. You had checked role play and mock medical examinations.

Your heartbeat threatens to unbalance you as Demiurge stands idly by, watching and waiting patiently as you slowly bend over to untether the straps to your heels.

"E-everything?" You ask with mounting anxiety.

 _"Everything."_ Doctor Demiurge's voice is firm with authority, and it sends a thrill peeling down your spine.

You unbutton your top and slide it down your shoulders, then toss it aside. Mere nudity should hold no anxiety over you- there are far more frightening things to fear, like those deadly blades arming his fingers. Still, your hands tremble as you wrench your arms behind your back to unhook the clasp of your bra.

Those crystalline eyes fixate on the black lacy cups as he patiently waits for you to pull them down to reveal yourself to his hungry gaze.

Shyly letting your bra fall, you then crouch a bit to slip off your panties and roll down your stockings. With the last of your clothing gone, you flatten your hands against your stomach as you straighten your posture, allowing him to drink in your naked form.

Your body is lithe with both muscle tone and softly rounded curves. Doctor Demiurge's gaze greedily glides over your skin, lingering on the swells of your breasts and pink flesh at the apex of your thighs.

Your breath comes shallow and quick through your nose as seemingly eternal moments pass.

"While you appear to be the picture of health, I believe a more thorough examination is necessary." The demon insists, and silently prowls around you, like a wolf seeking the most tender part of his prey to sink his teeth into.

The floor is cold beneath your bare soles, and it's a relief when Demiurge finally circles around to your front and holds out his hand to you. You lay your hand in his, and try to ignore the nearly-painful tightening of your nipples as they grow taut in the chill air.

 _'Damn, it's freezing in here!'_ Because bacteria thrives in warm environments, the hospital combats this with frigid temperatures, which helps slow bacterial and viral growth.

He leads you to the large examination table, but to your surprise he gestures to the foot of it. "Sit here."

Shivers rack your spine as you wordlessly do as he's ordered. Your sex throbs with anticipation, sending clenching drags of raw desire clawing through your belly. You wonder if he's going to stand in front the table and fuck you, but your arousal deflates as he moves away, slipping out of sight past your peripheral vision.

You gasp quietly as he then seats himself behind you, stretching his long legs around you, and pulling you against him so that his chest pleasantly warms your back. His mask scrapes your cheekbone as he smooths his hand over your belly, sliding it higher to massage your breast and making you sigh with desire when his claws gently prick your flesh. He then carefully rests his bladed hand over your throat, sending a sweet surge of danger through your veins.

His trousers strain against your backside, and the stark contrast of his being fully clothed while you're so bare and vulnerable to him makes a fog of lust settle over your mind. The halo of his intoxicating aroma envelops you; smoke, leather and steel polish and other things you can't quite name.

Warmth is pouring into you, flooding through your chest and face and arms and legs... suddenly the job doesn't seem to matter so much anymore. Especially considering the fresh waves of pure lust rolling off him…

"You. Are a _naughty_ little nurse, did you know that?" He chides, pulling you further back to where you can feel the head of his scathingly hot erection pressing into the dip of your lower spine and your lungs seize.

"Tell me," Demiurge growls in your ear. His thumb rolls over your nipple, plucking exquisite ecstasy within you like a harp. "when was the last time you engaged in sexual intercourse?"

"I... not in over a year... and a half." You admit breathily.

 _'Oh gods, please let this sexy demon be the answer to the dry spell.'_ You silently pray.

 _"Hmm..."_ He rumbles, sounding pleased. "Then let us begin with a pelvic exam." The doctor nuzzles into the side of your neck, earning a tiny cry from your lips as his gloved hand slips between your legs, finding your pearl and moving in achingly slow circles.

To your relief, his claws are apparently retractable.

You arch your back, overwhelmed by the sensations his experienced touch awakens, but he holds you fast against his well-muscled frame. The buttons of his shirt scrape the knobs of your spine as he works his first two fingers into your soaked folds.

"How very tight you are," Demiurge remarks, and strokes his deliciously thick digits over your silken walls, chuckling softly as you whine and writhe. "I take it you've had very few partners?"

"Y-yes, doctor." You choke out as he curls his fingers up into your wet heat to tease that one place that can make you scream, pulling you down into a red velvet haze with every delicious drag of his digits. "Only th-three."

"Do you have difficulty achieving orgasm with your partners?" You blush deeply at the brazen nature of his question, and you're utterly powerless in his embrace of hot steel as he wrenches a third digit in, sinking deep inside as you brokenly gasp. "I require an honest response if I am to prescribe...the necessary remedy."

The demon's long middle digit rubs lazy circles over your g-spot, and your mouth goes slack with an obscene moan. No one besides yourself has found that place, and you feel your face go numb as you soar higher and higher.

It's utterly mind-blowing; you've never been brought to the edge so quickly before. But _dear fucking gods_ , is he good with his hands- as a surgeon should be.

"Yes..." You sob, and feel a warm, damp spot pressing into the small of your back, and your eyes roll in your head with the knowledge that it's his cock dripping through his trousers.

He's _so hard_ , and your pulse sings in your ears. The doctor swirls his fingertips around your tender channel and as your walls flutter with the blinding edge rising within you, you hear his breath grow heavy.

"That's it, come for me." He goads with a purr, then hungrily grinds himself against your back, smearing the sticky wet of his pre-come on you through his trousers; and you can _feel_ the thump his heartbeat through his shaft, and imagine how it would throb inside you.

That did you in- you shatter into a million brilliant shards with a strangled cry, your passage clenching down around the thickness of his digits in a powerfully throbbing euphoria, and Demiurge rumbles with a pleased growl. Once the ripples fade, he slowly withdraws his hand from between your thighs.

The metal of his belt clinks as he works at it behind you, and you feel his heart hammering into your back.

You know what he intends, and you think it's safe to say you've never wanted anything more in your life.

Demiurge carefully lifts your rear to pull you into his lap, minding the deadly blades and using only the palm of his left hand to maneuver your body as he settles the thick head of his cock at your entrance, spreading your dripping folds.

You clutch desperately at the edges of the examination table, trying to keep your balance as he splits you open on his rigid length, but he holds your hips steady, pulling you inexorably down. You can feel every ridge and contour of his flared head, every pulsing vein of his shaft as he slides in, stretching you to your utmost limit.

"So big," You gasp mindlessly and pant as your skin prickles to gooseflesh, your body damn near going into shock as you are speared onto his nearly wrist-thick girth.

He only laughs, his voice laden with arrogance as he pulls your derriere flush with his hips. "Indeed I am."

The doctor's invasion is searing, inescapable, and you cling to his arm with growing desperation as he lifts you again, his harsh breaths resonating within his mask. He thrusts into you as you fall to meet him, and your body shakes with the jarring force of his strokes, peaked breasts aching as you bounce.

"How often... do you have... unprotected intercourse?" Demiurge queries through staggering breaths as he spears into you anew, sending devastating ripples of bliss spiking into you.

"Never." Until now, that is- but at the moment, you really couldn't care less. His cock is the thickest, _warmest_ thing you've ever felt and it's simply divine, the way it makes every molecule in your body hum with awareness of every little carnal detail of the filthy, unethical thing you're doing- fucking your (hopefully) new boss in his examination room. You can hear every wet sound of your bodies crashing together, the barely audible jingle of his earrings, smell sweat and sex and almost taste him on the back of your tongue.

Rolling your hips, you sink back against the surgeon again with a low moan, and he groans softly in response as he roughly bumps at the depth of you, his blunt head striking your cervix, over and over.

You want to scream your pleasure when he pulls you down hard onto him, but he fills you so completely that your breaths are too shallow to waste as the weight of his shaft seems to force the air from your lungs.

It's utterly sinful, how you fit around him like a tight, wet-velvet glove- you can feel it, your body sucking him in with his every stroke, clinging to him like you'll never let him go.

Demiurge winds an arm around your waist as he pumps into you, growling fiercely into your neck as you accept every inch of him stretching and burning and sliding, giving you exactly what you need.

"Demiurge..." You whimper, your channel tightening like a silken vice around his inflamed length as he surges deeply, his hips slapping wetly against yours and pushes you towards the edge once more. He slips one hand down to massage the nub at the apex of your thighs, drawing a wail of wordless exaltation from your lips.

"Are you going to come for me again?" The demon's words are velvet-edged, fuel to the fire that is the heavy slide of his cock and the feverish warmth of his body seeping into your bones.

"Yes," You beg, the word melting into a gasp of raw need as he pounds into your tender flesh, and you can feel it coalescing once more, that heady pressure that coils and churns and blooms. "Please don't stop!"

Demiurge shudders behind you with frenzied lust, his movements now erratic and unmeasured as he nears his release, and you welcome each thrust with a throaty moan until your voice cracks and breaks on his name, hardly recognizable to your own ears.

He keeps going, each push punctuated with a savage grunt, until the sweat of your body makes his shirt stick to your back, and you are so agonizingly close to another orgasm. With a vicious twist of his hips and a wild snarl, he hurls you both into the dark abyss. You clutch at his bicep as heat of your core blows into an inferno of rapture, your walls constricting around him. The demon's cock jolts within your channel, and you feel his molten seed spurting into you like liquid fury as he groans his release, filling you in luscious, milky waves.

You both fall slack into a sweaty tangle, gasping for breath and shuddering with euphoria and exertion as you float down together. His dark head settles into the crook of your neck, damp hair tickling as he nuzzles softly against your skin with a gratified murmur.

 _"Mmm..._ I think your qualifications exceed my standards." Doctor Demiurge purrs as his iron-plated tail winds around your still joined forms, binding you to him possessively. "The position is yours."

**My other stories:**

[Experiment 3069, a dark Demiurge reader fic, ripe with smut and angst.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904596/chapters/62954236)

[Let Me Serve You, an Ainz/Demiurge fic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23995411/chapters/57721879)

[Outcasts, a softer story revolving around my character Malphas and Ceresoktavia's character Marlianken. Smutty but sweet with elements of A/B/O. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23615047/chapters/56671906)

💖💖💖 Thank you for your reviews and kudos! They are much appreciated. 💖💖💖

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> His mask and clothes stayed on because I have a major mask/trenchcoat kink. And of course, he wouldn't be Plague Doctor Demiurge without them.
> 
> I'm REALLY hoping to squeeze in a chapter 3 before October's end, but I can't make any promises. If nothing else, I'll keep adding chapters over the following months because I do what I want and no one complains about better-late-than-never porn. 😂


	3. M/F/F (Demiurge/Reader/Albedo) Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, everyone! It's been a while!
> 
> So sorry for the delay in updates, but I've been completely absorbed with my main project (Experiment 3069). I also had more time to work on my many stories when I was working from home, but because Texas fucking sucks, I was forced to return to the call center I work in during the height of pandemic season. Therefore, I have less time to work on my fics because in all honestly, we aren't supposed to be writing, or doing anything for that matter in between calls. -.-;
> 
> Especially NSFW content. XD
> 
> I found a way around it, but work cautiously in case I do get caught, lol. I can only write my main project and the SFW parts at my job, so all the fun stuff must be done at home, hence why it's taken so long to finish this chapter. I'll drop part 2 in a couple of days once it's all polished up. :3
> 
> Enjoy!

"Now who's promiscuous?" The succubus chides.

You only chuckle. Albedo laughs in return and silences you by taking your lower lip between her teeth and nipping.

With a whine, you squirm beneath her, slipping your tongue past her lips to siege her mouth. She tastes like dewdrops rolling over a rose's velvet petals. Sweet, floral and impossibly pure.

Of course, this is the siren's song of a succubus- to taste like salvation.

Moaning softly, Albedo pins your pelvis with her luscious hips against the pitted cobblestone wall. The pressure earns a shudder and gasp, and then you flip your position, rolling you both until her back is flat to the wall with your hands planted on either side of her head. The flush of her cheeks brightens, her eyes of molten gold glittering with exhilaration.

The succubus holds you captive in her gaze and you can only watch, spellbound, as she reaches back for the latch to the web of golden chains caging the mounds of her chest. Albedo unfastens it and it falls away with a metallic clink, then removes her collar. Next, she peels down the cuff securing her dress to her biceps and tugs it downward until one of her breasts tumbles free. Your breath clogs your throat, and the visceral throb between your legs only grows more urgent when she draws the second strap down, letting it fall. You can do nothing but stare- her breasts are perfect globes of creamy flesh, her rosy nipples peaking from exposure.

You mouth floods with desire, forcing you to swallow thickly, attention darting between her chest, the lush bow of her lips and leonine eyes. There is only a split second of hesitation before you pounce, and your heart skips a beat as you dare to fathom the repercussions for your actions should you be caught by _him_.

Grappling her hips, you pull her to you and bury your face in her breasts.

She shivers, her fingers slipping under the silken hem of your top to smooth over your abdomen. You seal your lips around one of her rosy buds, swirling your tongue around it before moving toward the supple flesh underneath. With a hungry moan, you sink your teeth into it, sucking a hard, livid bruise into the skin. Mewling, she arches in your embrace.

Gods, she is _so fucking beautiful_.

Demiurge never kisses you, nor has he ever held you afterwards- he makes a point to erect a brick wall between himself and emotional attachments. While the sex is mind-blowing, you are positively _starving_ for intimacy.

But this comes as no surprise. If you were to slap a label on what you and Demiurge have, the simplest term would be "comrades with benefits", and it would seem as far as he is concerned, he owes you nothing.

So to see a stunning creature like her ache for you has you drunk with raw lust and smug satisfaction. All too rapidly, your concern for Demiurge dissipates.

On a breathy exhale, Albedo grabs your wrists and lifts your arms to skin your top up over your head, all the while herding you backwards. The succubus allows the article to fall to the foot of the bed with a whisper of silk and releases you to knead at your breasts, pulling a gasping moan from your lungs. You then lunge forward to bury your face in the crook of her neck, making her raven wings tremble, and she turns her head to the side as your tongue traces the graceful arch of her throat, down past her collarbone.

"Gods, you're gorgeous." You purr, then gently nip on her other breast, and with a squeal she collapses onto the emperor-sized mattress, allowing you to lead for the moment.

"As are you." She replies, groaning at the scorch of your breath across her decolletage. "I can only hope Lord Demiurge appreciates what a lovely creature you are."

Of course, she would know. You and the Devil were far from quiet when taking out your stress, frustration and demonic hormones on each other- you have to hand it to him; he knows _exactly_ how to make you scream.

Her hands slide over your face in tender reverence before her delicate fingers then wind into your thick locks.

"I'm not so sure he does." You lament, leaning your cheek into the warm silk of the gloves encasing her palms. "But forget him."

 _"Oh, Gods below."_ She purrs as your fingertips slide down her curves to dive into the garment's gash at her hips and teasingly graze her folds.

Outside, footsteps echo down in the hallway.

"Shh," You stifle a giggle. "You know Shalltear cannot keep her mouth shut."

"Let her listen," Albedo challenges your caution. The footsteps convey curiosity- they grow closer, louder. "Maybe it will make Lord Ainz jealous when he hears of it."

The succubus is still saving her virginity for the Ruler of Nazarick, but she isn't above fooling around with you. When it became apparent that he was in no rush to create an heir to the throne, she sought comfort in your arms.

She justifies it to herself as "gaining experience" to please Lord Ainz when the time comes, and you are only too happy to oblige.

"Albedo..." Hooking a finger around the Venetian lace of her lingerie, you glide a digit through her dewy slit, relishing her rich moan.

She's already _soaked_ for you. Ravenous, you curl your hands into her dress and tear it down her hips.

The footsteps pause outside of the entryway, and you halt, dropping your voice. "If Demiurge catches us in here because Shalltear tattles on us, he'll kill us both."

Demiurge has been rather cold to you lately, and while you try to chalk it up to the stress of carrying the weight of Nazarick on his deliciously broad shoulders, you still believe he's too intelligent to not realize how distancing himself has made you feel.

You promised yourself when this began between you that you wouldn't do this. That you wouldn't get _attached_ to him.

But you did.

So, as petty payback for what you perceive to be the cold shoulder, you had the brilliant idea of fooling around in the Devil's bed so he would smell that he isn't the only one interested in having fun with you.

It's childish, you know. But if it gets his attention...

Albedo laughs. "I'm his supervisor. He wouldn't dare lay a hand on me."

"Then that still leaves me to take the brunt," You whisper with a roll of your eyes. "So, in the case that we _are_ caught, I beseech thee to protect me from his unholy wrath."

Albedo chortles and then opens her mouth to reply when the door suddenly creaks open.

 _FUCK_. In the heat of the moment, you had forgotten to lock it.

Your heart stops cold in your chest, and the succubus groans in irritation. Before you can scramble to cover yourself, the Seventh Floor Guardian crosses over the threshold.

"It is rude not to knock before entering, Demiurge." The succubus wastes no time in chiding him as though he had wandered into a lady's dressing room, rather than his own quarters.

Smooth, Albedo. _Real smooth._

You both sit up on your knees, fully prepared to be asked to leave.

But to your surprise, Demiurge does not appear to be shocked in the least. As always, his poker face is impeccable.

The Devil quirks a brow at Albedo's scolding, far from impressed. "I cannot think of any reason that would warrant knocking when entering my own chambers. You cannot possibly blame _me_ for your state of undress?"

As Demiurge pushes his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, you can feel his accusatory gaze zeroing in on you- he knows damned well you are the mastermind behind this little stunt. Defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest.

Demiurge steps forward, advancing with feline grace.

"I see you found a way to entertain yourself." His address is sharp and silver, a freshly sharpened blade. "In my very bed, no less?"

 _Rude._ Okay, this IS your fault; you're the genius who thought banging your supervisor in _his_ bed would be a good idea, but still...

Fuck that. You won't be shamed by him.

"Surprised?" You ask, mirroring his haughty expression by raising a brow. He draws closer, his crystalline eyes melting you to the bone. Feeling daring, you unfold your arms, exposing your pert breasts to his gaze. "Or perhaps… _intimidated?"_

He halts, his feet inches from the bed, and cups your chin between leather-clad fingers. Stone-faced, the tactician studies you, and his gaze flickers to Albedo, appraising the situation- or rather, the _opportunity_ this presents. Warmth pools low into your belly. After a moment, his tongue curls over his fang, and his eyes snap back to yours.

"Hardly." Demiurge releases you and steps away. His iron-plated tail waves in the peculiar sway-flick that means the wheels in his head are turning. You see Albedo begin to open her mouth to say something, likely to try to tell him off, when he continues.

"You wish to fuck her?" The profane word sounds foreign on his intellectual tongue, but you'd be a liar if you said hearing him utter such a filthy curse didn't turn you on.

Before you can reply, Demiurge strides to the door of his quarters, and slides the deadbolt home, sealing the three of you in. The precise finality of the sound sends a hot, clenching ache into your womb.

With a weary sigh, he unfastens his tie and fluidly shrugs his vermilion pinstriped jacket down over the breadth of his shoulders to toss it over the back of the black leather settee across from the bed. He takes his time unbuttoning his cuffs and his shirt, as if he has just gotten home from a hard day at the office and there _weren_ 't two half-naked demonesses in his bed.

Deft fingers reach the last button, and then the Devil peels open his pristine white dress shirt, fearlessly baring his mouthwatering physique of immaculately carved muscle to your curious gazes. 

Behind you, you hear Albedo 's lips part in a quiet gasp and it occurs to you that she has never seen this much of him- until now, you were the only woman who knew the extent of how marvelously sculpted he is.

"So, if you are still feeling so bold, then do so." Demiurge dares, nodding toward the succubus. "But seeing as to how these are _my_ quarters, I'm going nowhere."

Your jaw falls open at his prurient provocation, and the warmth in your belly spills into your thighs.

The side of Demiurge's mouth then curls in that same unrepentant smirk that had dropped your panties faster than you could say Blue Balls of Baharuth. If you are being perfectly honest, that roguish smile is what sparked your attraction to him in the first place.

He cants his head, waiting, _challenging_ you to follow through with what you had been doing, and judging by the look on his face, he doesn't believe you have the gall to do so.

Not in front of him, anyway.

_'Oh, it's on.'_

In fact, the idea of the Seventh Floor Guardian watching while you have your way with Albedo sends an electric thrill zinging through your spine. Your thighs squeeze together and you swallow thickly, glancing over your shoulder, seeking Albedo's approval. To your relief, she is rapt, her eyes shamelessly tracking him, devouring his statuesque beauty as he crosses the room and takes a seat on the black leather settee, making himself comfortable.

Demiurge may not be her true love, Lord Ainz, but not even she can deny that the Devil is terribly attractive.

Turning towards the succubus, you lick your lips.

Now it was Albedo's turn to pounce. Her hands spear through your hair, her luscious lips crushing into yours as you wrap your hands around the dramatic flare of her waist. From the sidelines of your vision, you see Demiurge watching, his gaze tracing the curves of your bodies with heated interest.

Whimpering into her mouth, you hurl yourself into the kiss and card your fingers through her raven hair before yanking her head back. With a growl, you sink your teeth into her throat in a firm bite and she releases a shuddering whine. The sound invigorates you, so you suckle at her flesh, feeling her pulse flutter against your tongue. You peel her panties down, and slide them from her shapely legs.

This more aggressive approach earns a groan of approval from the Devil.

Her eager fingers slide over your velvety thighs towards your apex, teasing over your slick folds. Your head falls forward, breathing in her scent of golden honey, lavender and freshly-fallen snow, and graze your teeth along her clavicle. Goosebumps erupt across her flesh beneath the sharp of your fangs.

Smirking, you drag your tongue up the elegant curve of her neck while you wriggle out of your panties and then reach for her chest. Too enamored with Albedo's breasts, you quickly lose track of what Demiurge is doing. Their heft and softness in your palms is intoxicating- as is her eager response to your touch; her gasps when you tease her nipples, pinching them lightly, making them throb.

Groaning into her bosom, you trail a marauding hand down to skate between her legs once more. Her breathing grows coarse, panicked as you use two fingers to part the slick folds of her cleft, and she moans when you begin tracing circles over her sensitive peak.

In that brief moment, you envy the Hell out of Demiurge. There is nothing you wouldn't do to possess his equipment right now, just so you can sink it straight into her wet, pulsing heat.

Something shifts in your peripheral, and you glance to the side. Demiurge was leaning back on the settee, stroking his thick, heavy erection through his pants. The demon's gaze is affixed on you, his gloved fingers tracing the impressive outline of the bulge, rolling his thumb over the crown of the tenting material.

Your mouth waters, raw lust raking through you. The desire to rile further him roars through your blood- you fall between her legs as they drape over the bed, and spread them wide. Teasing your fingers through the glossy sheen coating her petals, you contemplate gathering them on your tongue as you swipe a finger up through her flushed inner lips, marveling at how her sex is the perfect hybrid of fruit and flower. You lower your head and nip the inside of her thigh and she lets out a breathy cry, trembling while you suckle at the tender flesh. Humming in delight, you lavish the other side with the same treatment.

"Ah," She gasps, squirming. "Please!"

Lips curving in a devious smirk, you meet Demiurge's eyes. His fingers squeeze around himself, lips parting and throat bobbing with a thick swallow. A damp patch is rapidly forming on the front of his trousers.

_Oh, he is loving this._

Breathless, you hold his gaze and brush your nose over Albedo's clit. She whimpers, writhing in desperation.

"Go on," Demiurge tempts like the Devil he is, dark and decadent. "Taste her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, Demiurge will be an active participant in what is to come (no pun intended), and WILL be doing more than merely watching.
> 
> As for future chapters, I intend to do a/b/o with Demiurge.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any suggestions for future chapters, I'm open to ideas! 🖤 


End file.
